


Dreaming of Things Best Not Considered

by ALC_Punk



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Episode: s03e05 The Harvest of Kairos, Friendship, Gen, Implied Cally/Jenna Stannis, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALC_Punk/pseuds/ALC_Punk
Summary: The nightmare of Kairos is not so easily banished for Cally, and the aimlessness of theLiberatoris beginning to get to her.
Relationships: Cally & Vila Restal
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Dreaming of Things Best Not Considered

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I ever noticed before how uneasy the webbed-in bodies in the larder on Kairos bothered Cally. But on a recent watch, it really stuck out. Thus, this was begun.

She cannot move, but her senses are free to do as they will

Around her are the sounds of wind through the leaves of the trees, the heat from the sunlight filtering through them, the taste of soil and panic at the back of her throat. Though she cannot see, her eyes perceive the impression of the sunlight through her lids. 

The silk of the web brushes over her cheek, the weight of something lands on her shoulder, pressing down, then releasing, and she finds herself trying to scream, though her mouth doesn't move and no sound escapes the paralysis.

A thump, a hum, the sound of spinnerets in action and she can feel a different sort of warmth as something else is pressed against her side. Another body, destined for the larder.

As she is.

Buzzing, now, as other spiders seem to gather. She'd forgotten the horrible, eerie sound during the night on Kairos, and hearing it again as it stifles the leaves and the wind terrifies her.

Strangely, she finds she can suddenly open her eyes. Sight isn't any further help than not having it was. In horror, she can clearly see the spiders webbing in the rest of the crew around her, equally paralyzed. A living death that will leave them all nothing more than meat for the life that swarms Kairos after the harvest.

They webbed Dayna in against her, her eyes open and glazed, yet still _seeing_. Vila is on her other side, and past him, the curls she can see escaping the webbing indicate Tarrant. Avon is webbed across and to the side, in his own little larder-shelf. As though even in pseudo-death, he is far and away above them. 

If it were a quick death, without the endless knowledge, the waiting, perhaps it would be easier.

But time has ceased to exist, the only meaning it has is counted in the slow, steady beats of her heart. An echo of which comes from those around her.

She is not the only one trapped in a living death, unable to escape.

Were she to reach out with her telepathy, Cally is certain she would hear the rest. Or perhaps she could hear the spiders as they hunted and fed. Simple creatures who are merely surviving, their thought patterns so alien to her own mind.

Doing so would drive her madder than she already is.

Another body is webbed in directly across from her, and a second next to it. Blake and Jenna, both with their eyes staring at her.

_Begging._

Now there is no one to come for them, no one to save them from the webs.

Cally screams herself awake, eyes wild and hands clawing at her sheets as she scrambles off the bed and lands on the floor, banging a knee in her unsteady descent. Crouched there, she pants as she re-orients herself. _Liberator_. She is on the _Liberator_. Not on Kairos, not left to the spiders to consume.

Swallowing against the bile rising in her throat, she forces herself to breathe in the cadence of a meditation rhythm.

The cold of the floor under her bare feet finally centers her, and she drops a hand, pressing it flat.

Eyes wide, she stares at her door, breathing in. Breathing out.

It's at times like this, that she misses Jenna especially. The Terran woman had been sensitive enough to wake when Cally would have a nightmare, her brain subconsciously reaching out desperately for connection.

Jenna's taps on her door, her concern, had led to more. Burying herself in Jenna, wrapping the other woman around her, would banish the terror of her dreams.

Kneeling on the floor, she finds the rhythm finally setting in (perhaps thoughts of Jenna are as calming as she once was in person). Calm spreads through her as she reflects on the dream.

She should not have tried to reach out on Kairos. It had been dangerous, horrifying, to discover that the people were still alive. Held in a conscious stasis until their captors were ready for the feasting.

A shiver slips through her. It could so easily have been them, had Avon not found the survey ship. A slim chance had kept them all alive.

The Federation had always known the dangers of Kairos, and yet, they still abandoned people there. Hatred burns through her, as she finds yet another reason to bring them down entirely. The war had shattered them, fractured the fleet and destroyed so much of their hold over the galaxy. But creatures like Servalan are still in power, and they are all clawing their way back into familiar, comforting, power structures.

Stretching, Cally slowly gets back to her feet. It was times like this where she wishes that Blake had contacted them again. A true cause, something to fight for... she misses it.

Pirating Federation supplies simply isn't the same.

Perhaps she should suggest more interruption of their supply lines. The destruction of communications outposts. It would provide them with more intelligent targets.

And perhaps Vila will decide to go straight, she thinks rather sarcastically. Cally isn't going to lie to herself, Tarrant and Avon are only interested in the disruption of the Federation as it pertains to their own capture.

They will never go for the long view. Not without Blake.

Rubbing her hand over her face, she gives up on getting any further sleep. The feeling of the webbing wrapped around her, and the incessant buzzing and ticking of the spiders will chase her through her dreams if she tries.

Once dressed, Cally heads towards the flight deck. Even if Tarrant's on watch, a little company is better than her own dreary thoughts.

It's Vila that she finds there, however, half-slumped and snoring ever so slightly in his seat.

A fond smile pulls across her lips. There's a constancy to Vila. He's not a pillar, but he's familiar, obvious, and quite set in his ways. She would trust Vila to have her back as far as she could throw him, and as long as there was something in it for him. Or a pretty girl.

But it's a better trust than she has for the others who aren't Avon, and her trust of Avon is tangled in a web of feelings she rarely acknowledges. 

Reaching out, she grasps his shoulder. "Vila."

He reacts instantly, head jerking up and eyes surprised as he looks at her. "Cally!?"

"You should get back to your cabin; get some sleep, I can handle your watch." She's come for company, but he looks far too tired, and really should rest. Even if there is no one actively chasing them, being at their best requires _some_ sort of regular sleep.

"I'm all right, I'll just..." he pauses, looking at her with a slight frown crossing his face. Something that is probably concern fills his eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Just a bad dream." There are things she hadn't told any of them on the return from Kairos, and she has no plans to start now. Avon, she knows, has guessed, though even he hasn't said it aloud. Knowing the people they encountered were still alive hasn't let her sleep well at night, there's no need to cause the others such difficulties.

"Know what I do after a bad dream?" Vila asks, stepping out from behind his console and looping his arm through hers.

She lets him tug her around to the seating area, as he continues, "I like to sit and have a lovely little drink. Forget all my troubles and worries."

Disengaging her arm as she isn't particularly interested in a lovely little drink, Cally nevertheless sits beside him, letting their shoulders and knees bump. It's comfort, of a sort. She knows that Vila has had other coping methods, but this seems to be the easiest for him--it's the easiest for all of them, even if the others pretend otherwise. "I'm not particularly thirsty."

"You normally aren't," he replies quietly, relaxing into the back of the seat. He doesn't say anything else, then, almost as though he's realized that Cally doesn't really need _words_ , just the company.

Once, he would have tried to jolly her out of it, or insisted on the drink. She remembers his gamine grins, and happy smiles, and the jokes and laughter, drinks and drugs. But the universe has changed--Gan's death, Blake leaving, Jenna gone with him, the galactic war, Servalan, and the near-destruction of the Federation. He's changed--they all have, in their own ways. But Vila is no longer quite the same jester and thief he was when they met.

Letting herself relax and simply think of nothing is what she truly needed.

She nudges his shoulder after a time. It's nearly time for him to go off-shift, and he's starting to make the whistling noise she knows precedes a snore. "Vila. You should head to your own quarters."

"Mm? Ah, yes." He rubs his hands over his face and blinks at her. "When did you get here?"

"An hour or so. Go to bed, Vila."

He gets to his feet and heads towards the corridor, stumbling a little as though the sleepless night has finally caught up with his motor skills.

Rising, she follows to make sure he doesn't fall up the stairs. "Vila?"

"Cally?"

"Thank you."

He looks at her, blinking again, then nods as though he understands that his quiet presence was enough comfort for her. And perhaps he does, they're all a little used to thinking of Vila as the not-so-clever one, and that has never been true. "Good night, Cally."

"Sweet dreams, Vila."

"They'll all be of your smiling face," he jokes sleepily. Then he's gone into the corridor, and Cally turns back into the flight deck.

Heading towards her console, she murmurs, "Zen, I'd like a status read-out to my station, please."

Zen's lights flash behind her, but he otherwise remains silent.


End file.
